


A Friendship that Lasted a Lifetime

by Zuperbuu



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Behind the Scenes, M/M, Prequel, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuperbuu/pseuds/Zuperbuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knockout decides to write something that isn't a medical blunder in his journals, and instead explains how the friendship between himself and Breakdown became something much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendship that Lasted a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zuperbuu's Tumblr Followers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Zuperbuu%27s+Tumblr+Followers).



> You know what? This one was supposed to be a 2-hour crack-fic like my other ones, but because I really, really love these guys as a couple I wanted to make them a very nice and chunky story.  
> It’s still a one-shot, I won’t be adding to it anymore (it is limited to two chapters, and only two), but as a word of warning to you; there is an actual mound of text in here that isn’t smutty, but the smut is still in there (you just have to be patient).
> 
> This crack-fic was done as a thank you to all my Tumblr Followers for their support; thanks guys and gals!

  
I seem to be writing more of these medical blunders down in my logbook than anything beneficial, well I aim to change the streak of such things from overwhelming my entries by filling in this section with something ‘good’.  
Sure, sure…this isn’t even worth putting in a medical log at all, but it may shed some light on my relationships with certain individuals within the Decepticon ranks or perhaps I should say… _relationship_.  
Breakdown may never forgive me for writing this story in such an easily accessible place, I’m sure he’ll come at me demanding I remove it from the records later, but it’s not going anywhere; I want to ensure our relationship is immortalised…besides, this is MY logbook, he shouldn’t even be reading it.  
  
So let’s see…it all started when Breakdown and I were part of a much larger group of Stunticons, I honestly cannot recall all of their names (their paintjobs were quite terrible though) but if it wasn’t for that group I doubt Breakdown and I would have ever met.  
Motormaster was ‘ _the boss_ ’ and we always did what he told us to, even if he was (as you Humans call them) a _jerk_ ; everyone hated Motormaster with a passion, so it came as no surprise that our little group disbanded after we grew tired of his ‘leadership’. But back to the group itself, and my first encounter with Breakdown; he was a rather paranoid member of the group, very young and scrawny, and lacked any real ‘backbone’ in combat exercises.  
He’d be hiding behind cover of any kind, whining that _“someone was out to get him”_ and that all of our optics were constantly on him (which was not true; I was the only one staring at him). It came down to my acceptance of his ‘paranoia’ that Motormaster assigned us to work as partners with another Stunticon (I believe his name was Dragstrip, he was a runt too); initially Breakdown was reluctant to work alongside us and needed constant pushing and pulling from either myself or Dragstrip just to get him to move out of his hiding spot, and whilst Dragstrip was losing his patience with Breakdown’s paranoia I was more than willing to be patient with him.  
In fact, this was quite possibly the first time I ever wanted to _help_ another Cybertronian outside of the simple ‘given orders’; Breakdown was lacking self-esteem and confidence, and just by looking at his young, skinny chassis I understood exactly why he lacked those important factors in his life.  
So I did help him, because there was a time (dare I say it) that I was just like him; small, fragile and easy to pick on. I could see it written on his face, that all he needed was someone to be there for him, as a friend, instead of a superior constantly prodding him aggressively to overcome his fears (which from past experiences, I know do not work).  
Dragstrip had become so annoyed with Breakdown that he demanded to be transferred to another Stunticon team, which Motormaster (reluctantly) granted, leaving just him and I together; there were a few hurdles to overcome in our time working together, but because I understood his fears and chose to help him overcome them (rather than suppress them) we both were perfectly capable of fulfilling Motormasters orders.  
Then that time came; Motormaster was just too much of a nuisance and the group dispersed, scattering across Cybertron on our own personal objectives. But Breakdown stuck by me, he’d formed a trust and I was more than happy to have his company; he’d even learnt to lend a hand during my medical work, no longer turning away screaming at the sight of visible organs or massive Energon bleeding. I was very proud to see him develop from that cowering mess into a more respectful individual, and I was no longer ashamed to call him my assistant.  
He didn’t need to fight, since both of us worked in the field of medical science (with him as my armed escort and ‘ _nurse_ ’) but when the time for him to fight off enemies did rise, he failed horribly; he was just too small, too weak, to protect me let alone himself. We often found ourselves running for cover when guns were ablaze with fire, and so I made a decision; I would give Breakdown exactly what we both needed, _an advantage_.  
  
I brought Breakdown back to the laboratory, telling him I had a “ _surprise waiting for him”_ that he would be thrilled to see. I had constructed numerous weapon and armour components for him to use, to help him in combat and to build up that self-esteem and confidence, but upon trying the armour on we discovered that Breakdown just wasn’t big enough to move in the parts.  
He thought there was nothing we could do to increase his size, but that was where he was wrong; I had developed a chemical just in case the armour didn’t fit, constructed from Angolmois with a hint of Nucleon to keep Breakdown calm.  
Breakdown was very reluctant to take his medicine orally, and so I resorted to giving him the option of having it administered via injection or as a suppository. The thought of needles terrified him, and he had no idea what the term ‘suppository’ meant, and so he quite foolishly accepted that method instead. Of course, when I revealed that the medication needed to be implanted deep inside the body for it to take effect and that once the procedure started it could not be stopped until the entire chemical had been injected, Breakdown began to have suspicions and started acting nervous again. I was by no means going to allow him to back out of the procedure since it was for both of our benefits, and thus I was forced to retrain Breakdown against one of my laboratory tables to give him the medication…against his will. I did attempt to administer it orally for him, even trying to disguise it as a regular Energon drink didn’t work on him, and he continued screaming at me to keep the needles away from him, so he indeed had to take the medication _the other way_.  
Breakdown whined and cried like a Sparkling as I showed him the Rectal Probing device, saying he was willing to take his medication willingly by injection rather than have that thing shoved up his tailpipe; but the medication had already been implanted into the device, and the only way to get it out was to actually use said device. I didn’t have enough of the mixture to make an injection with, so my poor little Breakdown had to grind through one last hurdle to net that powerful body he so desperately needed.  
The device was a single probe unit connected to a long cable, which was connected to a pump machine containing the medication; upon turning on the device Breakdown began pleading with me to not continue with the procedure. I quite happily ignored him, and planted the probe deep into his tailpipe.  
  
Breakdown squirmed as the probes vibrations rattled his inner framework, his optics shut so tightly that I swear he had started to _cry_ from the rather uncomfortable feelings. I’ve only ever had the probe used on myself once, and it is not at all pleasant.  
The probe managed to push its way deep inside of his tailpipe, allowing the mixture to access his central body area as it was intended to, and before I knew it Breakdown stopped crying out in discomfort and showed signs of _arousal_.  It was perhaps caused by the medication being steadily fed into his nether region, with the Nucleon doing its job of easing Breakdowns limbs and such, but the Nucleon also heightened his sensitivity to stimulation and I am also quite sure the probe had hit a soft tract in there.  
As I watched the main pumping device empty its contents, turning to look at Breakdowns face out of the corner of my optics now and again, I waited patiently for some visible effect that the Angolmois was doing its job. I didn’t have to wait long because Breakdowns body happily accepted the chemicals code and started using it to bulk up his chassis; it was a rather slow process but was completely successful none the less, and I couldn’t help but blush at the lingering expression on his face…the look of ecstasy…but also of shame. I did feel rather guilty forcing the Rectal Probe into his tailpipe, and that he was put through quite some pain as his chassis started to bulk up and expand in size, but it was worth every shred of it.  
I removed the probe from Breakdowns nether once I heard the machine turn off, indicating it was completely empty, which forced a light moan to escape from behind Breakdowns tightly clenched teeth. The restraints on all four of his limbs remained in place as I began attaching all the armour component and new weaponry to his larger chassis, and it all fit perfectly into place. Once I was happy with the enhancements the restraints were removed, allowing Breakdown the freedom to do what he pleased; his first few steps from the table were shaky, having him to use the nearby table for support as he took each new step in his larger (and more heavy) legs.  
Once he got the hang of the new weight he was carrying and started moving around without needing support, he turned towards me with a grin and said he “ _can’t wait to test the rest of the body out”._ I foolishly encouraged him to test out as much of the modifications as possible, unaware that he had intended to test one feature on me, as a form of punishment for giving him the suppository method instead of the injection. The medicine was likely still swarming his circuits, making minor improvements that were not visible on the outside, and had heightened his ego as well as deepened his voice, because why else would he suddenly wish to trounce me?  
I turned back to the table to clean up any mess Breakdown may have made on it, to prepare for any patients we would manage to pick up later in the field, when I felt him slam my chassis down against it; I struggled in vain as Breakdown clamped my arms to the table with the restraints, and spread my legs apart whilst chuckling close to my auditory receivers _“let’s see if anything has improved downstairs_.” Oh primus…I knew his rod would have been beefed up as well as his main body, that’s just how the Angolmois worked; everything gets beefed up, from physical to mental  aspects of an individual. But exactly how much they bulk up is random for each user of the chemical, and sometimes it doesn’t even work at all (it never worked on me, minus a bad hangover the day after).  
What I did not expect was the sheer size it had grown to; I felt the tip of the rod press up against my rear, and cried out in shock as Breakdown pushed it inside, moving deeper and deeper until he’d reached my inner wall and could go any further.  
I gripped tightly onto the table, snarling and shaking in anger, as I felt the rod pulsing within my tight behind _“not so fun when you get something big and hard shoved up your tailpipe against your will, is it Knockout?”_ The rod was very uncomfortable, it only just fit within my port, and quite frankly at the time I would rather have had the probe shoved up there than Breakdown’s massive rod.  
 _At the time._ Things are _different_ now; _we_ are different.  
  
Breakdown pulled his rod back a few inches, before ramming it again with more force in my port, repeating the process over and over again without pause; I remained flashing my looks of anger and discomfort, managing to turn and make optic-contact with him long enough to see the look of pride and confidence within them. If it wasn’t for seeing that confidence in dominating me, I would have been furious, but that look within his optics was the very thing I was hoping to see; it proved that the procedure had worked, that the little cowardly Breakdown I took under my wing had matured into a worthy Decepticon soldier.  
I, myself, displayed a glimmer of pride in my optics which Breakdown took notice of right away _“what? You’re not mad?”_ he asked with slight confusion, I replied with a light chuckle and turned to look away from him, which seemed to perk his interests further _“What’s so funny?”_ I didn’t reply verbally, and instead wiggled my behind with Breakdowns rod still deeply planted inside, causing a moan to escape from both of our mouths.  
Breakdown blushed as I then began pushing my chassis back and forth, working his rod in my port for him, causing him to emit various pleasurable sounds. I turned to look behind myself and grinned in triumph at the spectacle of Breakdown’s growing timid and blushing expression, he may have earned confidence and an inflated ego, but deep down inside he was still the same old Breakdown I was happy to call my ‘assistant’…my _friend_.  
He was inexperienced; that was probably the first time he interfaced with an actual partner, because whilst he was easily stimulated by the thrusting, I was not. And I wanted to _help him_ again.  
So as I continued to work his rod in and out of my port, keeping watch of his face, I came to a decision which would eventually set of a chain of events which would change our relationship forever _“Breakdown, take the restraints off and I’ll show you how to really interface”.  
_ He paused for a few moments, wondering if I was just trying to coerce him into freeing me for a chance to escape, but I believe he saw in my optics that I indeed did want to help because it was not long before he removed his rod from my port and released my arms from the restraints; I brushed myself off and turned to face Breakdown, entranced by the very attractive Stunticon presented before me. I was highly impressed with the results of the procedure, as _everything_ had been improved in both function and appearance. _Everything.  
_ His rod remained unsheathed and I couldn’t keep myself from staring at it in awe at the sheer size of it, it looked far larger than how it felt in my behind; the paranoia within Breakdown surfaced as I remained silently staring at his mating equipment _“…i-is something wrong with it?”_  
“No. I’m just…rather impressed.” I answered, shaking off the trance I had been put under by the spectacle _“if you want to interface with such a big hard rod like that, then you need to have a larger partner.”_  
 _“It seemed to fit perfectly fine in your aft.”_  
“T-there wasn’t much space for—”  
“It didn’t hurt you at all either; you looked like you actually enjoyed it. So…”  
I remained silent as Breakdown displayed a devious grin, he had caught on to my little scheme of avoiding being the ‘test subject’ he needed; my growing blush as I scoped my optics over his chassis once again just heightened his amusement, and once again he made a move towards me.  
The laboratory table was my only way of obstructing him from getting any closer, and so I leaped over it and made sure Breakdown was always on the opposite side I was on; still flashing his smirk as he teased me around the table, growing more devious with each move he made to try and catch me by surprise, until he finally was able to grab hold of my left arm and pull me towards him.  
But instead of receiving his rod up my behind again, he just pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me, whispering a _“Thank you”_ to me as he embraced my chassis against his own.  
My Spark racing from the rush of being caught, his gentle touch, every single one of my senses was elevated; each passing moment wrapped in his arms was delightful. I still go offline in peace beside him remembering those moments, and feel elated awakening to find him still there each morning.  
Because while the little interfacing we did then was brief, it planted emotions within the both of us that have never left; we needed each other, more than anything else on Earth or Cybertron.  
A relationship that started out as just us being ‘friends’ developed into us treating one another like brothers, with Breakdown constantly showing his appreciation for what I did for him those very many years back in more ways than just words.  
 _“Thank you”_ gradually changed to _“I like you”_ and later evolved into another set of words I use lightly, considering it is taboo within the Decepticons to even mention them; the words _“I love you”_.  
  
It use to be brotherly love; we would go on missions together, collecting data and items as a team rather than as individuals, we didn’t need anything or anyone but each other to get the job done. But then **_it_** happened. **_He happened._** Bulkhead, that large bumbling brute of an Autobot, had shown his face at one of my and Breakdowns usual field expeditions scouting for Energon.  
Using the new found confidence within him, Breakdown fought wonderfully against Bulkhead whilst I kept my distance to continue with the scouting and surveying; each blow the two bulky Cybertronians launched at one another was fierce and savage, I had never seen such a spectacle in combat before. Breakdown was so ‘pumped’ by his combat with Bulkhead that even when the Autobot was forced to retreat he pursued him shouting profanities and other insults, and over the course of the next future encounters Breakdown became a bit too ‘cocky’ and eventually lost to Bulkhead…served him right for being an arrogant son of a bitch.  
Those many times in the repair-bay, fixing his injuries caused by Bulkhead and the Wreckers…it got us talking a lot more than we use to. We use to only talk when the job was over, how some Vehicon screwed up some duty, who we thought would end up on my repair table next and then we’d move on to another task on our own…we never use to share our living quarters, or the same ‘bed’, until our friendship became something more...and it was thanks to this rivalry with Bulkhead that I got to spend more time with Breakdown.  
He’d lay down on my medical tables, talking about his fight and anything else that he thought was interesting whilst I repaired his injuries and spruced up his paintjob. Then later, after I obtained a few scratches and scuff marks from my own conflicts elsewhere, he would be waiting for me in the ward with a buffer and polish; and Nobot knows how to work a Buffer quite like Breakdown.  
So at some point in our relationship, things changed between us; we started sharing the same resting quarters first, but not the same bed, and refused to be separated on our jobs ever again.  
However, just because the relationship moved on from the brotherly bond into (what you Humans call) ‘ _romance’_ we by no means started the whole interfacing thing again…at least, not for a very long time.  
When Cybertron was deserted, Breakdown and I moved into space via our own little ship in search of new Energon sources; we had returned to living the life we had so early on in the war, and it was thrilling. The sights we saw, the battles we fought together, and it was all increasing the strength of our bond. But all that time alone in space did take its toll on us; we were the only ones on board the vessel, and the conversations become rather exhausting after long periods of time, so before we knew it we had started to _experiment._  
We didn’t have anything interesting on the ship, and on those very long voyages from one planet to the next you couldn’t help but think of certain activities to pass the time with; we use to try and play games, but Breakdown always took them so seriously that they lost their ‘fun’ element rather quickly. By the time we exhausted the games, and the conversations started to become more personal, an awkward silence started to develop between us; I would be navigating the ship, trying with significant effort to not look at Breakdown in ways which would evoke curiosity within him, whilst Breakdown would sit quietly in his seat twiddling his thumbs.  
In fact, it was Breakdown who broke the silence with a rather blunt and direct line of conversation _“so Knockout…”_ he’d begin with a hint of nervousness in his voice _“…do you want to go and experiment a little?”_  
“…experiment? We don’t have a laboratory in here.”  
“That’s not the type of thing I was talking about, Knockout.”  
I remained oblivious for some time, choosing not to answer Breakdown whilst I thought about what he meant as I continued to operate the ship. Then, suddenly, it hit me.  
 _“You mean experiment…in our resting quarters?”_  
“Uh…yeah…kind of.”  
I remained silent and continued operating the ship, but out of the corner of my optics I was looking at Breakdown and watching him carefully; he had a small blush forming on his cheeks, and was meekly looking towards me only to look away the instant he noticed I was staring at him.  
 _“W-we don’t have to...”_ Breakdown quietly muttered as he tried with some effort to look away from me, but he continued to find his optics shifting over to meet my own; I remained silent and delivering rather inquisitive looks towards him, which seemed to surface his old paranoia quality _“W-what I said was stupid! I’m sorry I brought that up…I’ll be quiet for the rest of the trip.”_  
He tried so hard…so very hard…to hide his shame; burying his head in his hands, turning fully to look away from me…I didn’t even say a word to him in approval or protest for several hours, which I think caused him to believe our friendship would be damaged by the conversation he had attempted to start.  
So I broke that silence, and those concerns stirring within Breakdowns head.  
 _“I don’t see anything wrong with a little experimenting, Breakdown; providing they’re done with discretion.”_ Almost instantly Breakdown bolted his optics towards me and blinked in confusion _“Y-you mean…you’re okay with it?”_  
 _“Of course I’m okay with it, otherwise I would never have agreed to it. Just let me set the ship to Autopilot and we can go right now, if you want.”_  
Breakdown leapt from his seat in an instant and rushed to the resting quarters, rather enthusiastically to be honest; many are under the impression that it is I who is the devious one, seeking the interfacing and such, but Breakdown was near always the one who requested some ‘intimacy’ from me (a few rare occasions, I would request him. But that is for another time.)  
  
Once I set the ship to Autopilot I proceeded to the resting quarters, locating the room we both shared, and upon my entry I found Breakdown sat on his bed, fidgeting with his thumbs again nervously _“you’re nervous, big boy?”_ I teased as I entered the room, flashing a rather proud grin towards Breakdown _“a-a little…we’ve not done this since…well…”_  
“…your procedure and cosmetic enhancements.”  
“R-right…and it wasn’t very long.” He stuttered, the blush on his cheeks now being far more obvious _“so…now what?”_ he asked, stopping with his fidgeting to make optic-contact with me as I proceeded to make my way to the bed. __  
“First we need to get you to relax” I told him calmly, sitting beside him and taking one of his hands in both of my own which netted another emotional reaction from Breakdown _“and then, when you’re relaxed, we can…experiment.”_  
I slowly began stroking Breakdown’s hand, feeling it trembling within my delicate touch; I slipped my lower hand around his wrist joint to take a pulse, and felt it racing in excitement (or perhaps it was fear). I watched within his optics reflection and witnessed mine dilating, which seemed to heighten his mood and pulse in desire (or maybe it was anxiety, hard to tell with him anymore).  
Suddenly Breakdown made a move on me and pushed me down onto the bed, using his hands to pin my arms down against the mattress; my Spark began to race as Breakdown moved down closer to my face, and planted a little peck onto my lips. He pulled back to look deeply into my optics, panting from his nerves and racing Spark, before seeing a similar reaction within myself.  
Breakdown removed his hands from my arms and gently caressed my face with them both, securing my head within their gentle hold, as he edged his lips to meet mine again in a far more passionate kiss; his tongue quickly greeted by my own as I wrapped my arms over his shoulders, and raised one of my legs to rest behind his back, allowing me to rub my port up against his crotch plate.  
He read my bodily gesture flawlessly, and immediately edged his rod into my port and planted it as deep as he could without mercy; I cried out in pain, breaking the kiss momentarily until Breakdown reformed the connection between our lips and began thrusting. Deep and slow, but still rather painful, thrusting that caused me to whine in discomfort within the affectionate kissing; his rod was desperate to offload his CNA into something, anything, it could and was rather quick to begin bulging with his seed. And as his rod swelled with his life juices, the space within my tight port for thrusting became less, and I could no longer quell my cries of pain within the kiss; I cried out, screamed in agony, until I felt the cold gush of Breakdowns fluids escape into my port.  
Breakdown stopped thrusting as he ejaculated, gasping in shock by what he felt, and slammed his hands down onto the bed and tightly gripped the sheets; my pain was gone for the moment, since he was not thrusting anymore, which granted me the chance to speak freely without fear of crying out again _“the first time is always the fastest, so don’t worry about it. Care to try again?”_  
He stared down at me, a nervous smile forming on his lips amongst the mass of blush plastered all over his face.  
I adjusted myself on the bed and spread both of my legs further apart, nodding to Breakdown to begin thrusting again once I was satisfied with the position; he resumed with the same manner of thrusts he performed earlier, only now with the lubrication within my port it was not quite as painful. In fact, he was starting to loosen me up a bit, which is why future sessions I had with him where never that painful.  
Breakdown began panting as he instinctively sought to thrust faster and harder into me, which triggered my body into being stimulated to _do something_ as well; I lashed out at Breakdown and forced him to stop thrusting right away, edging his massive rod out of my port _“what? Did it hurt too much?”_ he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice. I shook my head and moved over to one of my storage cabinets to search for something, before having to fully remove myself from the bed to find what I was looking for. __  
“What are you looking for, Knockout?” Breakdown asked, clearly confused. I remained vigilant in my search, but was still happy to answer his question _“unlike you, I can serve as more than one type of gender model. I’m looking for something I should have put on before we started interfacing.”  
_ Breakdown looked at me, still very much confused _“I took a risk allowing us to interface without protection, but when you started to thrust faster my Unitron started to be dispensed, so unless you want me to carry your—”_  
“—scrap! You mean…y-you can get—”  
“—yes Breakdown. Now unless you want **that** to happen then I advise you help me find the protection, otherwise we won’t be interfacing anymore.”  
He was quick, very quick, to help me find the necessary protection for our interfacing to continue; just a small device, planted deep into my port, would stop me from conceiving _anything_ Breakdown put inside me. So once the device was fitted I lay my chassis back across the bed, and allowed Breakdown to plug in once more and continue with his work.  
The thrusts were no longer painful, and instead of crying out in pain I was literally crying out for him to not stop, but every Cybertronian has his or her limit…and Breakdown was inexperienced, he was bound to release quicker than normal and to tire quicker as a result. So in an effort to help him (as I my nature with him involved) I pushed him up and onto the floor, with myself now on top but his rod still planted deeply within my port.  
I leaned down and kissed him tenderly, thrusting my pelvis up and down against his own slowly and gently, wiggling my behind now and again to find a more stimulating spot. But we didn’t find it that time, and Breakdown became so tired so quickly that the interfacing was over with, leaving Breakdown sprawled on the floor in exhaustion and myself pacing back and forth trying to take my mind off of my lingering sexual tension. Nothing else happened between us on that trip, not intimately at least; Breakdown was rather ashamed with his performance and didn’t feel like talking with me about it for many days, and when he did speak to me about it all I could do was reassure him that _“the next time will be better”_.  
  
Starscream called me quite some time later, asking me to do some repair work on Lord Megatron and to fill in the vacancy slot as the Nemesis’ Doctor. We had finally arrived at our destination of Earth, with our ship being badly damaged on entry into the planet’s atmosphere and beyond repair after the impact; Breakdown and myself awaited a call from Starscream so that he would be able to ground bridge us to the Nemesis, but the longer we waited the less certain we were about the original call Starscream had made to us.  
Breakdown sat in silence as we waited, whilst I started making necessary surveillance of the area for Energon sources, and it seemed we had picked up on one stray signature that was the closest to our position; I rallied Breakdown and moved forwards, locating an array of automobiles parked in an unattended concrete lot. I took the most dazzling specimen for myself, and left Breakdown with the choice of the remaining automobiles; unsurprisingly, he snatched up the largest vehicle parked in the lot, and once we warmed up our T-cogs we proceeded to drive towards the Energon source.  
Along the way, Breakdown and I began to finally talk about our relationship and where we thought it was going.  
 _“We’re still pals, right?”_ Breakdown asked, rather uncertain himself in his words.  
 _“Of course we are; just because we had one case of…unsatisfactory interfacing…does not mean our companionship should change.”_  
“What if I told you that I don’t want to be ‘pals’ anymore?”  
I hit the brakes and screeched to a halt on the road, with Breakdown having to slowly reverse within auditory shot of me _“you don’t want to be friends? Honestly Breakdown, it was your first time and I didn’t expect you to—”_  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
“Then what did you mean? Did you want to become ‘best pals’? That sounds so…Autobot…”  
Breakdown remained silent for a few minutes before he started muttering to himself quietly, perking my interests _“if you have something to say; say it. We need to keep moving, Breakdown.”  
_ As I started to drive again, Breakdown blurted out what was on his mind and once again I screeched to a standstill _“I want us to become partners…more than just work-partners, but like...”  
_ I quickly cut him off from speaking any further; just to ensure what I was thinking was the same as him _“Conjunx Endura?”_  
Breakdown muttered to himself again and moved closer _“what if I was considering that? Would you hate me and run away?”_ I did not reply, and just began driving once again but slow enough to ensure Breakdown knew that I wanted him to follow me.  
Once we both began casually driving again I broke the silence _“you do realize that such a unity is…embarrassing to some, right?”_  
“I do. But who’s to say we should go public about it? It can be our little secret.”  
“But I—”  
“You’re not the type to be embarrassed by simply becoming a Conjunx Endura; it’s because we’re both…you know…guys, right?”  
The idea of becoming Breakdowns Conjunx Endura (life partner) was a very difficult subject for me to handle; I had never been in a committed relationship before, neither had he and we only shared one intimate moment together. We displayed more of a friendly bond than anything truly sexual, but I knew that Breakdown was willing (and desired) to take the next step in our relationship…even if he was jumping ahead of himself.  
 _“Breakdown, I’m thrilled you’d select me for your Conjunx Endura…I truly am. But right now I don’t think we’re ready to make that commitment; the Decepticon cause comes first.”_  
“How about we form the unity when the war cools off?”  
“…I think we’ll have had plenty of experiences together that forming the union after say…we fix Megatron…would be the right time to do it.”  
“S-so you’ll really do it?”  
“Breakdown, have I ever lied to you?”  
  
We both seemed very happy on the remainder of our drive, and Breakdown was a lot more cheerful and excited to prove himself than ever before. It was then, at that point, when Starscream called and instructed I board the Nemesis immediately; once the ground bridge opened, I drop through, hearing Breakdown call out that he _“will go look into that Energon reading”_ I detected earlier.  
And well…I’m pretty sure the rest is history.  
  
I don’t mean to cut this little entry short or anything, but I was supposed to actually be doing work and well…I have a promise to keep for Breakdown.  
I’ll be sure to add another entry in this logbook later, just to lighten the mood a bit (because I am quite sure there will be more medical blunders to write down before the day is out.)  
So for now, uh…go do what fleshy creatures do best; shoo…go away...and don’t hit yourself on the way out the door.


End file.
